The Argosy — page 301: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

280 An Incident on Fubilee Night. she knew that the amusements were over, and that her husband would surely soon be home. ‘This last quarter of an hour was over at length, and she heard his footstep in the quiet lane. She turned faint and leant against the garden gate for support. ‘ What, waiting forme out here? Why this is quite lover-like !” said Joe cheerily as soon as he caught sight of her. “Joe!” and the pain in her voice as she uttered that one word instantly alarmed him, ‘‘Joe—let me in—I have been shut out— let me in!” ‘“ But the boy?” asked Joe, hardly grasping the situation, though be fumbled with all haste to find the latch-key. ‘He is in the cradle—alone—all alone—this cruel long while !” Joe had opened the door by this time and Marjory was within. Thank God, all was quiet! And her delicate little child had not screamed himself into convulsions! ‘The colour rushed into her white cheeks as she hurried upstairs, Joe following close behind. They reached the nursery. Perfect silence reigned there, and nothing seemed to have stirred during Marjory’s absence except Moosie, who no longer lay upon her footstool., They paused a moment on the threshold, and a deep-drawn sigh of relief expressed Marjory’s thankfulness. Then she crept on tip-toe up to the cradle— how white it looked with its snowy curtains and quilt! But— what was that soft white thing at the head of the cot, instead of the baby’s dark-brown hair? Joe caught sight of it at the same instant as Marjory, and forced her on one side. ‘What is the matter?” she asked faintly. Joe stooped lower over the cradle, though he saw too well what had happened. The cat was lying curled right round upon the child’s face. He picked the animal up (she was fast asleep) and flung her from him upon the floor; then he bent lower still over the cradle until his face touched the little, white still face lying there. It was quite warm, for Moosie’s coat was very thick, but—but “Go away, Marjory,” he said huskily. ‘‘ Don’t look—my girl.” But she was bending over the cradle by this time. He threw off the coverlet and gently gathered the child in his arms. It was their dead treasure which lay there. c.- - * <= ee _ EORNIECLIOOKS EO m